traveling over new territory, and in almost pitch darkness.
Several times when the beacon ahead vanished completely they were compelled to make use of the little electric light; but on such occasions Donald made sure to keep its glow confined to the rocky floor directly in front, so that no glancing ray might startle the mysterious man they were pursuing.
As these lapses of illumination in front were undoubtedly caused by the Witch Doctor turning some bend in the passage, the boys felt that they were taking only a small amount of risk in thus using their own torch.
It saved them from numerous stumbles, and possibly a bad fall; because the way was rough, with many outlying rocks to serve as traps for unwary feet.
“We must be getting right into the heart of the mountain,” whispered Adrian, after they had been advancing in this manner for quite some time.
“That’s right,” replied the other, with equal caution; “and still the old fraud seems to be pushing ahead.”
“Do you think this passage can lead through the pile of rocks, so that if we kept on far enough we’d come out on the other side?” Adrian asked.
“Hardly that,” his chum chuckled. “Pretty soon
we’ll find out just why Pick-ne-quan-to comes in here every once in a while. It used to be only so many times a year, they told me at the village, but now he has a talk with the Great Spirit nearly every day.”
“Yes, I heard that brave tell you so; and every time, some of them say they can hear that heavenly music, and the heavy voice of the dread Manitou, coming out from the heart of this Sacred Mountain. It’s mighty queer, Donald, what it can all mean.”